


You Bleed, I Bleed

by phantisma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Bloodplay, Bondage, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-15
Updated: 2008-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are working a hunt that goes very wrong.  When Sam comes to in a small dark room, he doesn't know who he is, and when a man comes and tells Sam that he's his brother, Sam doesn't know what to believe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Bleed, I Bleed

The sun was just about gone, the last light fading away through the dusty, dirty window. So he knew one thing. It was just about night.

He didn't know why that filled him with dread. He didn't know where he was, other than some dark room with a single high window and not much else. He didn't know why his head was bleeding.

He wasn't even very sure who he was.

The driver's license in his wallet said he was Sam Winchester, but the credit cards all had other names. He didn't know what that meant.

The door was locked. He was alone.

He paced the ten feet from the window to the door and back again.

The room slipped deeper into shadow. His head pounded and he rubbed long, stiff fingers up the bloody side of his face and into his hairline, slumping against the wall where he could watch the door.

Somehow he knew it wouldn't be long now. Someone was coming for him.

When the door opened, he almost missed it, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow, the pain luring him back toward sleep. The hinges groaned as the door opened. "Hey Sammy, you okay? You don't look so good."

He looked up. The man in the door was grinning, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. So it was Sam. He licked his lips. "Not feeling so good."

Something wasn't right. His heart was racing. Obviously he should know this man, but his face wasn't comforting. "What's wrong? Not happy to see me?"

He moved into the room, the door shutting. Sam stood upright, squaring himself to the man. He wanted to get to the door. "Look…no offense. I just…I need to…" He pointed to his bleeding head. "I'm bleeding."

The man nodded, his grin widening. "I know. I can almost taste it." He moved closer. "You don't know who I am do you?"

He didn't think that admitting his weakness was a good thing, but it wasn't like he could hide it. He eyed the distance to the door.

"You'll never make it."

Sam stepped back as he stepped closer, finding his back to the wall as the man invaded his personal space. "You smell so good Sammy, wanna eat you up."

His tongue slid up Sam's cheek, curling back into his mouth turned red. "Relax. I'm Dean."

Sam wasn't about to relax. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Dean. Let me look at that head."

"It's too dark in here." Sam pulled away as Dean reached for his head with both hands, pulling him close.

"Not for me." His fingers pressed into the wound and Sam yelled. Dean chuckled, sliding his bloody fingers into his mouth. "You taste even better than you smell Sam."

"What the fuck?" Sam pulled away, banging his already pounding head on the wall before he slid down it and out of Dean's reach.

Dean laughed, moving away from Sam, but staying between him and the door. "It's pretty easy, Sam. You and me? We went out hunting a few days ago. Got split up." Dean scratched at the back of his neck and shrugged. "I found you."

"Why…why was I locked in here?"

"You got hurt. Didn't want you getting hurt more while I finished the job."

"The hunt?"

Dean nodded. "Vampires. Whole nest of them.

He didn't like the sound of that. Vampires? No. This Dean guy was pulling his leg, messing with his head.

"Thing is…I couldn't let them live, not after they hurt you."

"I…I'm okay."

Dean crossed the small space separating them quickly. "No, you're not Sammy. You're hurt. That bastard hurt you. But it's okay. I took his head, Sam. Tore it right off his body."

Even though Dean's voice was soft and filled with caring as he said it, Sam couldn't help but believe the man could…and would, rip a man's head off. "No one messes with my Sammy. Come on."

Dean's hand took Sam's and drew him toward the door. Outside the room there was a light in the distance, down a long hallway. Bits of memory flashed through him…running down this hallway looking for something…someone. Sam's lifted his free hand to his head. He was being chased. Running. The memory slipped away as Dean lead him through a door.

The smell of blood was overwhelming. Sam stopped, pulling his hand from Dean and covering his mouth. Even in the dark he could see the bodies…headless bodies piled up together in the center of the room.

He felt like he might be sick. "What did you do?" He backed away from Dean, holding his hand over his mouth.

"You really don't remember, do you?" Dean turned to face him. "It was funny up til now Sam."

"Just…stay away from me." Sam started to pick his way over and around the puddles of blood. He could see a door. He just needed to get to the door.

"Easy." Dean's hand touched him, and Sam yanked away, tripping over a broken table and flailing as he went down. "Shit, Sam." Dean squatted next to him, his fingers turning Sam's head so he could get a better look at his head injury. "You got hit harder than I thought. Hold still."

"It hurts." Sam squirmed as Dean's fingers brushed over the wound.

"Wuss." Dean let go of hismand fixed Sam with a stare that seemed familiar somehow. "What do you remember?"

Sam bit his lip and thought about how to answer that question. "I woke up in the room."

"Before that?"

"Not much. I remember running from someone. I was looking for…I'm not sure what. I remember I was afraid."

Dean nodded slowly, his face unreadable in the gloom. "Okay. Let's start with the simple things. I'm your brother Dean. Our car is outside. I'm going to help you up and get you someplace safe, okay?"

"B-brother?" Sam's woozy thoughts couldn't reconcile the word to the rush of fear in his stomach.

"Brother. Big brother. What I say goes." Dean's hands gripped Sam's arms, pulling him up from the floor. "We'll head back to the motel, get you cleaned up."

Dean kept talking, but Sam's ability to stay conscious was dependent on him choosing to concentrate on one thing at a time, and at the moment that one thing was moving his feet.

By the time they reached the door, Sam's eyes rolled closed. He was vaguely aware of being lifted, carried like a sleeping child. Then there was cold and the embrace of a blanket, and darkness.

 

 

_"Dean!" The exaggerated whisper bounced off the walls and back toward him as he stalked the dark warehouse. He adjusted his grip on the gun in his hand. Dean had taken off after one of them while Sam kept looking. But that had been nearly an hour ago. He was starting to worry. The nest was bigger than they'd thought. They'd put down five of them and they hadn't made a dent._

_Sam turned a corner, his blood running cold. Dean was laid out on a table, bloody, his arms and legs marked with bites. All around him vampires watched him struggle as their leader held his bleeding arm over Dean's mouth. "No." Sam breathed, brought the gun up. He pulled the trigger, but it was too late. Dean's face was coated in blood. "Dean!"_

 

The pounding in his head was disorienting. He was pretty sure he should be laying down, but it felt like he was standing…or at least upright. Sam pulled his eyes open, the lids heavy and uncooperative.

Dean had said something about a motel. This didn't look much like a motel. Sam breathed out and forced his head up. He wasn't laying down. He was in the middle of the room, hanging from his bound hands. He tilted his head back and everything shifted to the side, making his stomach churn.

The walls were all lined with some stained gray cloth. Even the floor under him felt padded. He was naked and bound and still not really sure what was going on.

"Dean?"

He wasn't sure he trusted the man, but he'd been worried about him in his dream. Maybe he'd been telling the truth. Maybe there had been more of them.

"I was starting to worry." The voice was behind him. Sam twisted, trying to get his feet more fully under him. A hand touched his back, cold and not at all calming. "You were out a long time."

The tone was concerned, even loving, but his predicament contradicted that. "What…what's going on?"

Dean moved around in front of Sam, his hand trailing Sam's naked skin. "I told you I'd take care of you."

Sam shivered as Dean's fingers climbed up his ribs. "Why am I…like this?"

Dean's smile was frightening. "Like what? Naked? I like naked."

His hands were everywhere, rubbing over his skin, up to his shoulders, over his nipples, down to his hips. "I like having you here like this for me Sammy. All mine."

"I--I thought you said we were brothers." Dean's lips brushed over Sam's chin, his tongue darting out to lick at Sam's mouth.

"Shh…it's okay." Dean's mouth closed over Sam's, his tongue wiggling against Sam's. His kiss slid from Sam's lips to his jaw, down to his neck. Dean's hand curled around Sam's cock, stroking it as he sucked a bruise into the skin. Despite himself, Sam felt his cock harden with the attention. "I'm going to make you all better, little brother." Dean whispered.

The bite was sharp and Sam gasped. Blood spilled and Dean's mouth followed, licking it up and then his mouth closed over the wound. His hand kept moving over Sam's cock while he sucked. "Dean…" He was fairly certain that this…whatever this was…was wrong. He shouldn't be hard in his brother's hand. His brother shouldn't be sucking blood out of his neck.

His stomach clenched and he couldn't have stopped the orgasm if he'd tried. His vision swam, even as Dean released him and stepped back. His own jeans were tented and his hand went to his groin, drawing Sam's eyes. "Gonna take good care of you Sammy."

"Sammy…" That was familiar, intimate even.

_"You throw like a girl, Sammy."_

_"Watch your back Sammy."_

"It's Sam." He wasn't sure why he said it, but it made Dean laugh.

"Told you it would all come back to you."

Dean's hand pulled his zipper down and eased his hard cock out of his pants, stroking it as he stepped closer. "You remember when Dad said vampire's mate for life, Sammy?"

"V-vampires…" The blood. The bite. He remembered the dream. Dean fed upon, drained…dying. "Dean…oh my god, Dean." He hadn't saved him.

Dean was behind him now, his hands on Sam's hips, on his ass. "Gonna make you mine forever Sammy."

The rustle of denim and the thump told Sam Dean had shed his jeans, then there was a finger pressed up against him, against the tight hole. Sam shook his head. "Dean, please…don't."

"Shh…take it easy. It won't hurt…much." He shoved in then and Sam tried to pull away, but his legs were wobbly and he couldn't get traction. A second finger joined the first, pushing into him and moving around. Dean's other hand was in his hair, pulling his head to the side and closing his lips over the wound in Sam's neck. Sam screamed, pulling on the ropes that bound him.

"Okay, I lied. It hurts like a son-of-a-bitch." The fingers were gone and in their place was something thicker. Dean's cock shoved into him. Sam's knees gave out and the only thing keeping him up were the ropes and Dean's body as it pressed into him.

He was starting to feel the blood loss. His head fell back against Dean's shoulder. His cock was hard again, his ass filled with Dean, his neck bleeding into Dean's mouth. He was going to die. He was going to die without ever really remembering who he was or why.

Dean's fingers circled his cock. "Mine Sammy….forever and ever…never die…never get old…want to be inside you…"

"Tired…" Sam groaned, his eyes closed, surrendering.

Something warm touched him. Wet…on his lips. His tongue moved involuntarily, swiping over his lip. Copper. Blood.

Dean's wrist was pressed up to his lips. The wound was jagged, the blood only lukewarm, not hot like blood should be. It filled his mouth.

"Swallow Sam." Dean's voice growled in his ear. "Swallow and when you wake up everything will be fine."

Dean's cock pulsed inside him, he was coming and his hand moved faster over Sam's cock. His mouth closed back over Sam's neck.

_Sam's hand bled and tears spilled down his chubby cheeks. "Dean, it hurts!"_

_"Hold on Sammy, almost there." Dean walked beside him, guiding him into the run down house. "Let's clean it up." A quick wipe with a towel revealed a small but jagged cut. "Not bad Sammy, but it might need stitches."_

_"No!" Sam pulled his hand back. Dean put his hands on his hips._

_"Sam…you don't want it to get infected." Dean took a few steps away and grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer. "Here." He pulled the blade over his own hand, holding it up to show Sam the blood. "You bleed, I bleed." He put his bloody hand over Sam's pressing them together. "My blood, your blood."_

_Sam blinked away the tears. "I love you Dean."_

_"Love you too squirt. Now will you let me make it better?"_

"Let me make it better, Sammy."

Sam swallowed. It burned, something different than alcohol. He gasped in air and more blood flowed into his mouth.

"That's it Sammy…drink it." His hand squeezed and Sam came again, collapsing back against Dean as the blood moved inside him.


End file.
